The Painter and the Dancer
by Everlastingpassion13
Summary: Dancing was her passion. Painting was his way to kill time. Their views of their livelihoods were too different to make things work. She had a boyfriend, her dream job. He was a college student enjoying his youth. Yet their attraction was their lifeline to one another. Kiyoto/OC


The barrettes in her hair were like small red buttons, framing tendrils of reddish locks smoothed across a bright face and gray eyes. Her tiny fingers grasped the ends of her dress as she twirled in place, dancing in the room all alone in a ballet gown. The recital was weeks away and yet she could not stop practicing. Her steps were light and childlike, and yet she had a grace that was uncommon for such a young girl of her age and height.

She was alone in that room, dancing to the music in her head and finding the inner peace that swelled in her tiny breast, right where her heart lay, and she used that pure emotion to propel her feet into movement as she furled and whirled about the floor.

She didn't hear when the door opened and a boy stepped in. She was in her own little world, even when he called to her to get her attention she did not stir from her inner dance. The boy was somewhat frustrated with her lack of response. He had a sketchbook in hand and he sat lazily, crossing his legs and watched her without really knowing why. The girl giggled to herself, still oblivious to her spectator, and quietly began to sing aloud the song coursing through her head.

_What a dumb girl. _He thought to himself, hand resting on his cheek, but even he couldn't stop the stretching of a smile on his lips as she sang and twirled. He had to admit, she did have a cute voice. Suddenly finding inspiration, he opened his sketchbook and began to draw. The girl continued to dance to her heart's content until her inner song was done and her routine complete. She stopped, eyes closed, facing the mirrors, until she opened them with a small relieved smile. And that's when she caught sight of the boy sitting cross-legged, looking at her from across the room. She yelped and turned around to face him, hands covering her mouth as she blushed profusely and the boy couldn't help but laugh at her silly expression.

"Forget I'm here." He said with a charming smile. "Just dance like before."

"But it's embarrassing." She protested and he rolled his eyes. She bit her lip, but being the young girl that she was, and not wanting to succumb to her obvious discomfort of having him watch her, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She began to dance, distracting herself from his presence by singing her song again. She hummed it and then finally let the words flow from her mouth. The boy smiled as he continued to draw the young girl in front of him.

-Time Skip-

Work had been killer as usual. Her reddish hair flowed freely around her shoulders, long and soft as she walked in long, confident strides back to her apartment. The click-clacking of her heels set a rhythm that she began to hum to. However, the sudden dip of the sidewalk caused her to momentarily lose her balance. Gracelessly, she landed on her butt with a grunt and a scowl for her heels. "This is why I never wear these stupid things." She growled to her shoes, getting curious looks from passersby. Ignoring them with a tilt of her chin, she slipped both heels off of her feet, wiggling her toes and feeling much more comfortable already. This gained even more looks than before and yet she did not let this faze her. If she would become embarrassed just by walking barefoot, imagine her stage fright when she had to face an entire audience.

The sudden growling in her stomach alerted her to the fact that she had yet to eat that day and she caught the mouthwatering, tantalizing smells wafting from a nearby food cart. Without pause, she strode over to the stand, heels in hand, and stood in line, eyes glancing over the many different meals she could take as an evening snack.

"It's a pity you can't wear them," a chuckle rose from behind her and she raised an eyebrow, turning around to face her new companion. She found a young face peering down at her from locks of tousled black hair. He was quite handsome and inwardly she felt her stomach flip. He half-smiled at her, glancing at the heels in her hand. "You looked very sexy with heels." He paused to gauge her response and she smiled faintly back at him, hoping the rising heat in her cheeks would be masked by the fading sun and rising night.

He continued suavely, "I couldn't help overhearing you talking to your shoes. Seems to be a tough day, huh? Can I treat you to something, Miss? Maybe I can make you smile a little."

"If you're offering." She wasn't very keen on accepting a stranger's money, but he was offering to feed her and who was she to turn down such a kind offer? She told him her order and he went up to the stand, buying a treat for her and himself. Then he returned with that same half-smile on his face as he handed her the kebab.

"If you'd care to explain, I'm wondering why a woman would be hating on her shoes."

She glanced at him curiously and he returned her look with an interested one of his own. She shrugged in response, "I've never been one for wearing heels, that's all."

She nibbled into her treat as they continued to walk. She wasn't sure where he was headed but figured it would be better to walk with someone rather than in the dark alone. "I'm Saruka Miyagi by the way."

"Kiyoto Makimura." He answered with a smile for her. He looked absently at his watch and his lips tightened slightly. "It's a pity I can't walk the rest of the way with you Miss, but I have to get to work." Saruka cocked her head. He worked this late? There were few jobs that designated the employed to work at such late hours. Kiyoto seemed to guess what she was thinking for he smiled at her.

"I'm a bartender." He answered her unasked question and she nodded with understanding. He glanced her way, eyes trailing up her form as though he were taking her in. She frowned at him, shivering under his gaze. "So Miss..." he began, his dark eyes catching her gray pair. "I'd love to see you again sometime, maybe... somewhere a little more private?" His hand found her arm and her lips parted at his forwardness. Wow, were his eyes gorgeous. But she was levelheaded, and though she was captivated by his obvious sex appeal, it oozed from the wisp of his black hair and slender jaw, she was pleasantly taken.

"I have a boyfriend." She said distinctly, moving her arm away from his hand.

The fresh, boyish grin that slid across his lips startled her in its charm, but not as much as his words, "All the better."

She felt her body heat up but she was sourly disgusted. She frowned deeply and defensibly wrapped her arms around her shoulders. "I'm not that kind of girl, Mr. Makimura."

He winced. "It's Kiyoto." But he recovered quickly and flashed her a winning smile, "I could make you that kind of girl."

"Alright, I've had enough." She was definitely done now. She spun on her heel and strode down the sidewalk back to her apartment. Young men indeed. Tigers. She laughed at the comparison a moment in her head , but shook the thoughts clear out as she headed away. She'd make sure to stay out of the nearest bars for the next few days.

Kiyoto watched her go with a growing grin but shook his head. She would be too much of a pain. Pity, she was quite beautiful, especially with those high heels and her slender legs. He clasped his hands behind his head as he walked in the opposite direction towards work. Maybe he'd see Miss High Heels again sometime.

* * *

**So the start of a Kiyoto Fic. This will definitely by M-rated, for future chapters. **


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